


In the Fell Clutch of Circumstance

by Stardust_and_Rainy_Days



Series: In the Fell Clutch of Circumstance [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, I'll add more people as they join or whatever, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_and_Rainy_Days/pseuds/Stardust_and_Rainy_Days
Summary: Obito comes back to himself to the screams of civilians and shinobi alike. From his perch, he can see shinobi attempting to put out the fires and prevent anymore buildings from collapsing. However, none of this is what draws him from the recesses of his mind. What makes the smoke catch in his throat is the fading light of two familiar chakra signatures. Kushina. Sensei.





	1. Out of the Night that Covers Me (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and I'm really excited. I'll come back to add more to this later. I just wanted to post a nice thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is sadder than anticipated but at least now it's actually been edited  
> [SeverNSkull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverNSkull) is a godsend for reading all my lack of punctuation and weird wording

Obito comes back to himself to the screams of civilians and shinobi alike. From his perch, he can see shinobi attempting to put out the fires and prevent any more buildings from collapsing. They scramble to treat their wounded and collect their dead. However, none of this is what draws him from the recesses of his mind. What makes the smoke catch in his throat is the fading light of two familiar chakra signatures.  _ Kushina. Sensei. _ He races to find the sources as fast as his feet will carry him. The shreds of his logic and rationale tell him it’s too late to save them, but he has to try. 

He lands in the clearing with a stumble but refuses to slow his pace until he falls to his knees next to his teacher and the former jinchūriki. None of Madara’s training could have prepared him for this. Obito focuses on the chakra signatures just like Madara had taught him, trying to wrap his head around what he finds. Minato-sensei’s signature feels jagged and empty like his soul was ripped from his body, leaving only shredded fragments that fade with each passing moment. But Kushina… Kushina still has some life in her. Obito scrambles to her side. 

He ignores the tears clouding his vision and places his remaining hand over the gaping hole in her stomach. Pushing his chakra to his palm, he tries to mold it into the minor healing ninjutsu Rin had taught him to treat his own scrapes and bruises. His chakra flickers unsteadily with the thought that Kushina will die regardless, but he holds onto the old wives’ tale of the Uzumaki being able to heal their bodies from any wound because of their incredible chakra reserves and life-force. He thinks that maybe if he provides her with enough chakra, she’d be able to heal herself. Sure enough, it starts to work; he can see her wound begin to close. But it’s not enough. He can still feel her fading away. 

He feels a flicker of awareness from her before a hand settles on his. He blinks away his tears as best he can. Kushina smiles up at him unseeingly. 

“Obito?” she rasps. 

He has to rip his mask off because he can’t breathe past the sobs that tear from him. This is all his fault, Obito knows. He should have said no. He should have run away sooner. If he had just said no, none of this would have happened and Kushina wouldn’t be bleeding out and Minato-sensei wouldn’t be – 

Dead. 

Minato-sensei wouldn’t have died because of him. 

A hand wipes away his tears, startling him from his spiraling thoughts. He opens his eye to see Kushina’s smile brighten. Absentmindedly, he reaches up to hold that hand in place. When was the last time he felt a touch that wasn’t followed by pain?

“Obito, you’re alive?” she manages before a bloody cough interrupts her. 

Grief, fear, regret cut like a knife through the shroud of apathy and numbness that has plagued him since Rin’s death. And it  _ hurts _ . 

He can only stare wordlessly as the life leaves her eyes. He can even feel the moment her soul departs. The hand in his hold goes limp and it feels like watching Rin die once more. Only this time, the blood is on his hands. 

“Kushina?” he begs in a voice so small it startles him. Obito feels the scream that wants to tear from his throat, but it can’t escape past the sobs that shake his slight, battle-torn frame. 

He cries into the front of Kushina’s blouse until the approaching chakra signatures force him to leave the clearing and abandon the last remnants of the only family he ever knew. 


	2. Out of the Night that Covers Me (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [SeverNSkull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverNSkull) helped me with this one too because they're awesome

Obito watches from the trees as a team of ANBU stumble upon the bodies of the late Fourth Hokage and the former jinchūriki.

With a surge of chakra, reality twists and falls away. Kamui drops him at the foot of Madara’s throne in the Mountains’ Graveyard. He kneels before the withered husk of Uchiha Madara more out of exhaustion than any true sign of respect. The elder studies him for a long moment.

“I trust you did not fail me,” Madara rasps.

Obito inclines his head, taking a steadying breath. “Both the Hokage and the Kyūbi jinchūriki are now dead.” Madara praises him for a job well done, but it falls just short of sincere. And in the next moment, Obito is dismissed with an order to replace his missing arm before he returns to discuss the next step in Madara’s plan.

“The Fourth Hokage would not have bested you had you been in possession of both your Sharingan,” he tells Obito with clear displeasure, “No matter. You will reclaim your eye the next time you cross paths with Hatake Kakashi.”

Obito feels dread stir in the pit of his stomach and he has to fight to hide the tremble of his hands. Ignoring the rising roar of static in his ears, he continues methodically testing the mobility of his new arm. Madara doesn’t notice the shift and continues, “Kill him if you must. You cannot allow one boy to stand in the way to peace.”

Something in Obito finally snaps.

A spark of chakra and a thought is all it takes for Kamui to carry Obito across the scant distance between Madara and himself. Madara doesn’t even have the chance to blink before Obito has his hand wrapped around the old man’s throat in an iron grip.

Obito pulls both Madara and the demonic statue through the portal to his personal dimension. The husk of a man struggles in his grip, but age has stolen away his strength. And it makes it all too easy for Obito to catch the elder’s gaze in the dizzying spin of his Mangekyō Sharingan.

Madara always said that if a pawn has outlived their usefulness, Obito should take everything they have to offer before disposing of them. And that’s exactly what he does. Sharing memories through their clan’s dōjutsu is simple enough. Stealing them is simpler still.

It happens between one moment and the next. Obito rips the memories from Madara’s fading mind, living every joy, sorrow, loss, and betrayal his lifetime of war and pain has to offer, bestowing them upon himself.

Another moment and Obito returns to the colorless expanse of Kamui with Madara dead in his grasp. His mind far too shattered for even the statue to heal, face frozen in a scream that never had the chance to escape.

Obito releases a shuddering breath as he struggles not to buckle beneath the weight of those stolen memories. It’s only when Madara’s corpse tumbles from his grasp that the reality of his actions settles in. A sob tears from his throat. What has he done? His breathing comes in too quick and shallow to keep his vision from spinning.

Madara is dead and Obito killed him.

The realization crashes into him and steals what little breath his lungs have managed to cling to. He takes a stumbling step away from the corpse of his ancestor, clutching at his hair and willing the sharp pain to anchor him in the midst of his crumbling reality. Obito’s chest aches, empty and sharp, until finally -- _finally_ \-- his lungs pull in a deep gulp of air. He holds the breath for a count of four before letting it escape on yet another sob.

He can’t afford to lose himself now. But he killed Madara and his mind reels at his betrayal. He’s killed someone else he promised to help just like he killed Kushina and Minato, orphaning their newborn son.

But, a small part of him whispers, Madara never was like Kushina or Minato. Nor like Rin or Kakashi, was he?

He never was family. In fact, he had wanted Obito to kill the last shred of family he had left. Furthermore, he had dared to treat Kakashi -- his only remaining bond, whom he had entrusted with his precious Sharingan eye -- like an expendable tool.

Obito did the right thing, he knows it. Keeping Kakashi safe feels like the first right thing he’s done in a while, so he clings to it. Panic still wells and claws its way to the surface like a rising storm. But it’s… distant. Manageable. He can work with this.

Obito separates himself from that storm of emotions and allows the last few decades of Madara’s life to wash over him. The newfound clarity allows him to make the connections in what he sees, piecing together the semblance of a plan. Madara’s reach was farther than Obito had anticipated, with a spy in every major shinobi village, and a hand in the fall of several powerful and long-dead clans. The sheer scope of it threatens to overwhelm him, so he focuses on the more immediate threats, the pieces of Madara’s plot that will soon come to fruition. Plans that deal with the Akatsuki.

Nagato will soon awaken the full potential of his Rinnegan. Obito needs to find him before the trauma meant to trigger the transformation completely shatters the boy. Hopefully before Zetsu can steal him away or rob him of his eyes and disappear forever.

That sets Amegakure as Obito’s first destination. So he begins making his preparations, laying out his weapons for easy access, knowing that battle will likely find him upon his arrival. Selecting an empty scroll, he seals away Madara’s corpse. He’ll need it later if he wants there to any chance of Konoha putting any stock into his story and allegiance.

As he dons a new cloak, free of blood, and prepares for the jump to Amegakure, he remembers the newly minted jinchūriki of the nine-tailed fox. _Naruto._ It only takes a moment for the invasive thought to redirect his path and make him appear soundlessly among the trees within what remains of the Konoha’s walls.

The fires have long since burned themselves out, but the smell of death and ash chokes the air, and his own guilt threatens to smother what little is left untouched by the destruction he caused.. The streets are empty of civilians, but Obito can sense the shinobi still rushing about. It will be simple enough to evade them with the crumbling village to hold their attention. It only takes an instant for him to locate the corrosive chakra of the Kyūbi.

Kamui drops him right outside the room of the orphanage where the Third Hokage saw fit to leave the infant jinchūriki. With Naruto so close to the window, anyone could take him. The seals that _are_ present are either old and deteriorating or haphazardly placed and sloppily done.

A thought flickers across his mind. Obito could take him and disappear into the night, raise him away from the bloodshed and pain of serving a village. He would be safer with Obito, but he pushes that impulse away, stowing it in the back of his mind. Minato and Kushina would want their son to grow up in the village’s light. Besides, Obito still has to stop Zetsu and his plots. If there’s one thing his existence has taught him, it’s that the battlefield is no place to raise a child. He could revisit the thought later.

However, that doesn’t mean he has to leave Naruto without protection. Placing his hand on the building’s wall, he sends out his chakra to search for the wooden supports he knows this old structure has. With a touch of Mokuton, he instills the wooden beams with just enough chakra to dampen the Kyūbi’s presence. This should hide Naruto from Zetsu and keep him safe until Obito can return.

Satisfied with his work, Obito disappears once more into the vast expanse of Kamui.

\---

Even from the outskirts of Amegakure, Obito can feel the chakra and blood in the air. Kamui takes him to the edge of the battlefield and what he finds drops a cold weight into the pit of his stomach.

The Akatsuki are all but beaten, their numbers dangerously low. Worse yet, Hanzo’s soldiers have the Akatsuki’s leaders surrounded and outnumbered by hundreds. He enters the battlefield at a breakneck pace and prays to whatever gods may be that he’ll make it in time.

Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato stand in a tight three-man formation. Their defenses are solid, but they won’t hold out forever; Hanzo’s men are closing in.

Konan sends out another volley of paper needles that cuts down a score of enemy shinobi, but it's not enough. Yahiko thinks this could be the end of the Akatsuki if they don’t surrender. He, as the leader of the Akatsuki, will likely be executed, but…

He spares a glance at Konan and Nagato. They might have a chance if he hands himself over.

Yahiko lowers his weapons, ignoring Nagato’s concerned gaze. He can’t allow them to keep fighting a losing battle when surrender will at least mean the Akatsuki might live on within his friends.

But before he can voice his surrender, a sudden wave of screams sounds to their left. Nagato and Yahiko raise their blades once more, watching the confusion that ripples through the enemy ranks.

‘So, this isn’t one of Hanzo’s,’ Yahiko realizes with a shock. Konan lands soundlessly next to him, her face an ashen grey that speaks more of fear than chakra exhaustion. Yahiko doesn’t even have the chance to ask her what she saw, because in the next moment, the earth trembles and with a distant cry of “ **Mokuton: Daisōju** ,” large, jagged roots spring forth, tearing into the enemy forces and crushing a great deal more.

Hanzo’s men break formation and scatter, trying desperately to escape the oncoming carnage, but a shadow passes over them and wooden spikes rain down upon them. A wave of chakra thickens the air like an impending storm and Yahiko’s mouth goes dry as he watches the wooden spikes sprout branches and easily rip through the shinobi not fortunate enough to escape the volley.

Nagato startles violently when a masked figure lands gracefully before them. The man -– a boy, really -– stands a head shorter than the lot of them. He dusts off his robes and interlocks his fingers behind his head. “Sorry, I'm late! I had to... uh... help this old man move some furniture,” he says in a childish voice that Yahiko struggles to connect with the display of unbridled violence. “So,” he starts again, looking around them in exaggerated curiosity, “what’d I miss?”

Yahiko’s mouth flaps open and closed as he tries to get a word out, but his mind stalls. They’re obviously missing something here, but none of the pieces want to fall into place. Konan, however, wastes no time in pushing both him and Nagato behind her and brandishing a paper spike, daring the newcomer to give her a reason to use it. The masked boy inches away and holds up his hands in a placating manner.

"Woah, woah, woah! No need to get all stabby. Didn't you just see all of that?" he gestures wildly to the carnage around them. "I'm here to help," he declares with his hands on his hips and chest puffed out proudly.

Yahiko doesn’t need to see Konan’s face to know that she absolutely does not believe their tentative ally. “Who are you?” Nagato finally asks, voice carefully neutral. The barely hidden tremble has Yahiko on edge. Of the three of them, he’s the only non-sensor. Whatever has Nagato worried is very likely the same reason behind Konan’s blatant hostility.

The masked boy tilts his head. "It's me, Madara. Well, actually no -– Madara's dead. Hi, I'm Tobi and I'm here to kill that guy," he says, pointing back at Hanzo over his shoulder.

Finally, the gears in Yahiko's head click into place and he jabs a finger at Tobi from over Konan's shoulder. "Wait, you're that self-righteous bastard ‘Madara’ from before!"

Tobi makes an offended sound at that. "I wouldn’t say it like that, but yeah. And now I'm Tobi. Try to keep up, please," he says like Yahiko is a particularly thickheaded child.

Yahiko would very much like to spit his own insults but the enemy is regrouping. Although a third of their number fell in the last attack, the Akatsuki are still painfully outnumbered. They’ll need all the help they can get. With a resolute nod, Yahiko steps around Konan to stand before the masked boy. “What’s the plan?” he asks because as desperate as they are, he refuses to let his comrades fall to a betrayal he could’ve prevented. Some of Tobi’s childishness falls away and Yahiko can see the cold calculation of the man that first approached them all those months ago.

“We need to separate Hanzo from his men. We’ll have a better chance of killing him without all these extras,” Tobi tells them with a dismissive wave towards Hanzo’s forces as if they were nothing more than a nuisance. “And how do you plan to accomplish that?” Nagato all but challenges.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Tobi scolds, wagging his finger at them, “just get me close enough and you won’t have to worry about a thing!”


End file.
